Five Days
by SeaGreenBean
Summary: It all started with a simple headache and now Alfred and Mathew are on a race to save their own countries from their counterparts. No romance.
1. Prologue

Rated T for violence and swears. No romance.

Prologue

A short man with pastel-pink hair skimmed through the Latin words he had just written. He held the paper firmly as he bobbed his head and bounced his leg to a tune that only he seemed to hear. After reading the entire magic spell for what must have been the 40th time, someone else in the room finally showed their disgruntlement.

"What's taking you so long?" A young tanned man cut into the silence, his rough voice seething with obvious impatience. He glared at the man in the opposite corner of the room.

"I have to make sure this spell is correct, Allen. Besides, you don't want you and your brother to get trapped between dimensions and never return to our world, right?" The overly cheerful man replied, ignoring the other's anger. In response, Allen widened his eyes in fear before quickly lying his head back down on the couch, whipping his phone out and pretending to do something important; he would do anything right now in order to avoid his psychopathic brother's gaze. Although the British man never intentionally tries to be creepy, most of what he says has an involuntary addition of foreboding and it would never fail to creep the American out.

"You know you're not fooling anyone, right? Staring at a blank screen isn't a good way to act like you're busy." A more gruff voice commented from somewhere else in the living room. Allen met the eyes of his Canadian brother sitting on another couch, looking at him with a bored expression. The American shifted his position on the piece of furniture so that he was now face to face with the other. In an almost challenging manner, he tilted his head to the side and smiled slyly.

"And what's wrong with you? Did someone shove a moose up your ass?"

"Did someone shove a baseball bat up yours?"

"Are you trying to piss me off?" Allen's expression turned to one of annoyance.

"Yeah, kinda." In response, the Canadian gave a slightly amused expression.

That was the last straw for Allen.

In a matter of seconds, the tanned American launched himself from his seat and onto his brother, punching him in the face and knocking them both off the couch. The much larger Canadian grabbed the other by his shirt collar and held him in the air, ready to knock him out; however, his actions were quickly cut short when a knife whizzed between the two, lodging in the wall behind them. Simultaneously, the two brothers looked to another man perched on one of the arm chairs, playfully twirling a knife in his hand.

"I hate when people fight." The Italian said in a mockingly innocent voice, a slight smile on his lips as he watched the knife spin in his hands. As if by some unspoken agreement the brothers immediately released each other and looked away, focusing their attention on different spots of the floor. Luciano was not a force to mess with as they have both learned. The Italian looked at the two with half-lidded unamused eyes and spoke in a commanding tone.

"I need you two to work together for this mission and I expect you to do so. The whole reason why I chose you two was because you're a generally well-rounded pair that gets along very easily." He shifted his gaze to the American. "With your overeagerness to take on any challenge that comes your way and quick thinking - " he switched his attention to the Canadian. " - And your strict attention to your surroundings and careful planning, I am overly confident that you will succeed. However, if I learn that both of you North American brats completely fail the mission because you can't stop picking fights with each other then there will be consequences, understand?"

Wordlessly, the two brothers nodded.

Silence overtook the room as the controlling Italian stared at the pair. Usually he trusts his own judgement and doesn't rely on others for their own useless opinions; although, he would be lying if he said he didn't have doubts. Then again, was their any other nation duo that could handle a mission like this? A shrill voice interrupted his thoughts and he nearly brought his hands to his ears to try to block out the annoying sound.

"Oh, Luciano, you're so good with children!" Said nation looked to the Englishman with a disgusted and annoyed look. He clenched his jaw in memory of all the times he wanted to throw that irritable man to the farthest island away from Europe so he wouldn't have to hear that stupidly jubilant voice at every single time they met.

"Oliver, don't you have something you should be working on?" The Englishman payed no obvious mind to the threatening Italian's tone and smiled almost genuinely.

"All done!"

"Then work on creating the damn portal, _moron_!" His temper got the best of him and Luciano involuntarily stabbed his knife into the armchair. Gripping onto the knife's handle and taking a few breaths, all the anger that was released had suddenly disappeared and was replaced by a mischievous smile.

Despite everyone else in the room being noticeably scared, Oliver kept his cheerful demeanor and began working.

After ten minutes had passed, a intricate circle with various symbols was drawn in the center of the living room, dotted with candles in various places. Oliver smiled at his handiwork and beckoned the two North Americans to his side. They stood on either side of the British man, admiring the effort and sporadic shapes that were designed in the circle.

"Allen, James, I need both of you to stand in the middle for me." Oliver said to the American and Canadian respectively. The two moved to where they were told without question even though their minds were screaming not to. Yes, they were terrified but a very murderous Italian was forcing them into this mission.

After he felt that everything was set correctly into place, the Englishman grabbed at the paper he was previously reading and gave it a quick onceover before being to read the Latin words.

The two nations in the center waited nervously as their older brother sang foreign words, trying to focus on any other thoughts they had in order to ease their anxiety. The singing had completely ceased in the next minute and the circle was glowing with a red tinge, surging with unknown energy. Allen and James stood back to back, afraid that if they got too close to the edge, they would surely be burned alive.

"Now listen," Oliver began with an uncharacteristically serious tone. "You two have five days to eliminate the America and Canada of the regular world. If one of you do manage to kill your respective counterpart, you should immediately feel twice if not more powerful than you feel now, considering that you will be replacing them on the Earth. Remember, 2P or not, if your intent is to kill a nation and take over their land, they will eventually die off and you will become the designated host; however, be aware that this also applies to you, too. If you die in the real world, you will never revive in either universes. After five days, you will automatically be transported back into our world. If you have both the power of your country and your counterpart's country, you should be able to travel between worlds and then begin phase two of the plan. Remember, you only have one chance to complete your mission."

By the end, Allen had began to shifted in uneasiness while James gave a nervous glance towards Luciano who reassured him with a slight smile. This certainly is a large amount of responsibility to put onto two young nations that do not nearly have as much experience as other nations.

"No one likes a quitter." The Italian sneered from his perch on the armchair. "Besides, I think you two will be able to get the job done; I did specifically pick you two out of every other nation, right? You two must be special."

Allen gave a loathing glare. _Special my ass_. He thought.

All of a sudden, the circle glowed with newfound power and the North Americans could feel themselves losing connection with their world. As the energy overtook their surroundings, the two unconsciously held hands and closed their eyes, something they would always do since they were young and both scared. Before everything could completely vanish, they heard a disembodied voice echo.

" _Do not fail me_."


	2. Chapter 1

For clarification, 'Timmies' is the shorthand way of saying 'Tim Hortons'.

XxXxXxXxXx

Chapter 1

Alfred Jones, otherwise known as the personification of the United States, sat outside of his apartment complex with two large luggage bags beside him and a bored expression on his face. His gaze wandered around the beautiful landscape of New York: joggers were on their morning run, businessmen hurriedly made their way to their workplaces, and occasional couples roamed around the street looking for some place to eat. The personification sighed inwardly, taking his phone out of his pocket.

"I wonder where he is; he usually isn't late with this kind of stuff." He scrolled through the messages he had sent his brother repeatedly throughout the morning. _He hasn't texted in hours. I wonder what's holding him up._

It usually doesn't bother Alfred when someone is late but when he has to catch a plane departing at 11:30 A.M., he expects the Canadian to be here exactly at when he said: 9:00 A.M.. America checked the time displayed on his phone: 10:51 A.M.. At this point, he wasn't even sure if the two would be able to make it through baggage-checkout and security on time. Just when he thought all hope was lost, a bulky white car rolled onto the curb.

Recognizing that this was his ride, the American abruptly stood up, quickly threw his luggage into the trunk, and speedily walked towards the front of the car, not even sparing a second to relax. As soon as he had opened the door, he was met with a remorseful Canadian spewing apologies before he himself could utter a word.

"I'm really sorry I'm late, Al; I had a really tough morning. First I woke up late and I tried to get through the door while I still had the time but then Kuma grabbed onto my leg and wouldn't let me leave so I had to stay there and convince him that I'll be fine without him and then there was a lot of traffic on our country border so I had to wait for an extra hour and then someone accidentally spilled coffee on my sweatshirt at Timmies so I had to go change it and - "

"Chill, dude, I got it." America interjected, holding his hands up in a defensive manner. He could already see how stressed his poor brother was and he honestly didn't need him to pass out from lack of oxygen. " Sometimes your day sucks and you just gotta deal with it; I understand."

Matthew allowed his shoulders to sag in relief and met his brother's eyes with a grateful smile. At times like this, he was glad to have such an understanding brother.

The Canadian then proceeded to steer his way off the curb and onto the road, somewhat racing towards their destination. Alfred had begun to shift through the car radio out of habit while Matthew had taken a sip of his coffee; just then, the northernmost brother's face lit up with sudden realization.

"I also got you something to eat since I figured you didn't have time to make yourself breakfast." Matthew announced as he reached to the rear seats of his car; after a few seconds of shuffling, he pulled back a paper bag with an all-too familiar golden 'M' on the front. Upon sight, America's eyes brightened as his stomach simultaneously grumbled with hunger.

"No way!" He snatched the bag and pulled out a breakfast sandwich, scarfing it down. "You're the best!" The American said in between bites. Matthew released a small laugh at his brother's antics but then quickly redirected his attention to the road; right now, he just has to focus on getting to the airport on time.

Fifteen minutes had passed and the two North American brothers entered the large airport with their luggage in tow. Without hesitation, Alfred had started making his way around the large building, knowing this airport inside and out; honestly, he couldn't recall the amount of times he's been here before.

After speeding through all the necessary checkpoints, the two sat patiently in the waiting area of their gate, awaiting their plane's arrival. They chatted eagerly to each other, talking about all the recent events that had happened to them and what they were going to do once they arrive in England, all while cracking little jokes here and there to make each other laugh.

In a matter of minutes, the gate was calling all passengers to the airplane and the two brothers were up in an instant, pulling what was left of their luggage behind them. Before Alfred stepped into the jet bridge, he was suddenly struck with a sense of foreboding, making him unexpectedly pause in his tracks. He took a brief moment to look around in confusion as he tried to understand where the sudden feeling had come from; after concluding there was nothing suspicious around him, he simply shrugged his shoulders and proceeded towards the plane.

"That was weird." The American said to himself. He was purely baffled and couldn't think of anything that would cause his sudden concern. _Maybe my hero senses are just acting up_ , he tried to convince himself but deep down, he knew this wasn't it. He found it best to ignore this feeling for the time being and stepped into the plane, quickly finding his seat.

"Good afternoon, everybody, and thank you for flying with us. Please direct your attention to the two flight attendants in front as they demonstrate the flight's safety procedure." One of the pilots had notified over the intercom. As expected, two flight attendants had appeared in front of the rows of seats, carrying whatever necessary items they needed to demonstrate.

Tuning out the sound of the pilot's voice, Alfred pulled out his phone and checked for any last-minute texts or notifications before he would be completely deprived of internet. Besides, he's heard this speech hundreds of times and practically memorized the instructions.

Suddenly, a sharp pain tore through the American's head in the form of a headache, making him clench his teeth and grunt at the sudden discomfort. He was completely taken by surprise since there were no obvious signs of an oncoming headache. First this random sense of unease and now this? Is the universe out to get him or something? He tried his best to ignore the anguishing pain but he couldn't help groaning when another intense wave of pain hit him.

"You okay there, Al?"

America snapped his head up to meet the concerned gaze of his brother and tried his best to form a smile.

"Yeah, just a little headache bothering me; it's really nothing." He tried his best to reassure but his strained voice was betraying him and Matthew was obviously not convinced.

"Are you sure? You sound like you're in a lot of pain." By now, the Canadian had his full attention on his brother and he was starting to worry. Yes, Alfred was in a lot of pain but he didn't think it was anything to worry about. Maybe it was just from the stress of being a nation? That was a thing, right? And how would he explain that random sense of foreboding, too? He really had no clue on how to explain all this so he decided to just end the conversation there.

"Yeah, totally fine."

Matthew sighed in defeat. He knew Alfred was hiding something but for some reason, he didn't want to tell him. Well, he wasn't going to spend the whole plane ride trying to get him to talk; he still had a bunch of paperwork to go over before the meeting.

"Okay but if it's anything serious, you can always tell me. In the meantime, why don't you get some sleep? You have a whole seven hours to take a nap."

"Yeah, good idea." The American agreed. Now that he thought of it, a small nap wouldn't be so bad; this massive headache was really taking a toll on him. He situated himself comfortably in his seat and stared out the window as the plane started to ascend into the sky. In a couple of minutes he was lulled to sleep by the motion of the airplane.

XxXxXxXxXx

A random flock of birds pecked greedily at the seeds on the concrete New York grounds; however, they were quickly scared off when a bright flash of red lit up the alleyway. After the flash disappeared, both Allen and James appeared, sitting in a dazed state.

"Jeeze, that sucked." Allen groaned as he rubbed his neck. It only took them a few seconds to teleport from one world to another but all that magic had somehow given them some discomfort; although, he was quickly snapped out of his pained state once he realized where he was. His eyes widened and his mouth swung open as he observed his surroundings.

Everything about this city was like a fantasy to Allen. There were skyscrapers, small shops, plazas, and most importantly, _smiling people_ ; all of this was basically a myth in his world. Despite how old he actually was, he couldn't help feeling like a little kid arriving at a playground for the first time. At the moment, Allen could feel nothing but awe.

"Are you done yet?"

The American quickly shut his mouth and glared at his brother, upset that he interrupted such a beautiful moment for him. He was pretty sure James would act the same way if he saw one of his Canadian cities in the real world.

"Can you relax? We have five days to kill off those guys; I'm pretty sure we can spend a couple of minutes just looking around."

James could feel anger rising inside him. " Allen, we actually have to be _careful_ with this. I know you're use to running around and almost getting yourself killed but now is the time to use your brain. Think of a pl-."

"Think of way to shut the hell up and let me enjoy _this_! You know that there's nothing like this where we're from!"

"That's not the _point_. Just get off your lazy ass and be productive for _once_!"

In an instant, Allen grabbed the Canadian by his shirt collar and raised his arm in preparation for a punch. Unsurprisingly, James chose not to move, instead giving his brother a firm death glare. After a few tense seconds, Allen sighed and loosened his grip.

James raised his eyebrows in surprise. Usually, his brother would act upon his anger and throw all sense out the window but now he actually had some self-control. What made him think so rationally for once?

"We need to do what the the Italian-shit said and work together. - " Allen muttered, shifting his gaze anywhere besides his brother's eyes.

 _So it's the constant threat of Luciano that's causing him to act like this_ , James mused, although he really didn't blame him; every nation in their world feared him to some degree, even himself.

"- So let's start looking for a way to get to those two guys and kill them."

"And how are we going to do that?" The Canadian interjected. "There are millions of people in this state alone so the chance of finding two specific people is practically impossible; plus we don't even know if they're in this state anyways."

"I'll figure out something." Allen then completely released his grip and proceeded to walk out the alleyway; without second thought, James followed closely behind, wondering how _was_ Allen going them.

XxXxXxXxXx

Just a quick side note: Any Canadians out there willing to help me out with Canadian life (and possibly French) so I could make this story as accurate as possible? I would really appreciate it!


End file.
